


Getting There

by Arwriter



Series: Learned Behavior [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abused Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Angst with a Happy Ending, But mistakes are made, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Its ok though because his family loves him, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Protective Family, Virgil is making progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26455576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwriter/pseuds/Arwriter
Summary: Logan said it would take some time. He promised the others will always be patient, that there was no rush during recovery. Virgil knows this, he just wishes it wasn’t quite so easy to push him back over the edge.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: Learned Behavior [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1918165
Comments: 23
Kudos: 442





	Getting There

**Author's Note:**

> This is a series now because I love them

**Le** arned behavior, especially in cases like this, was incredibly hard to unlearn. Logan had made that very clear, _many times,_ assuring Virgil that it was perfectly reasonable to have some occasional setbacks. 

A long talk and a cuddle session, while Patton’s go-to medicine, wouldn’t magically fix all their problems. 

Logan had insisted on pulling all four of them aside the next day, delving into research and tactics to use to ensure Virgil felt safe, to gradually undo the damage that had been done. 

Patton and Roman had been listening intently, nodding along, sure to pause and ask for Virgil’s input whenever it was needed, holding his hand and making sure he was never overwhelmed. 

There were some...unpleasant phrases thrown around during the talk. _Abuse, trauma, conditioning..._ it all felt like something dirty. Like he was tainted, broken. 

And of course they knew what he was thinking, they were all so kind and attentive, so openly worried, quick to reassure and comfort. 

It helped, but...but still. Virgil was still struggling to wrap his head around the fact that all the things he went through, all the things he’d been taught were normal and expected weren’t...weren’t ok. That it _wasn’t_ normal. 

He’d deserved it. That’s what they told him. He went through all of that pain because that was just the way it was, and there was no other choice. 

Had he really been stupid enough, _pathetic_ enough to just believe that and let it all happen? If he was so easy to take advantage of, so easy to hurt, then why wouldn’t the light sides end up doing the exact same thing, no matter how well meaning they were in the beginning? 

He knew it was stupid and unfair to have those thoughts. And to make it worse, he knew _they_ knew he was thinking it. 

They wouldn’t do that. They’d sworn it to him too many times to count. Like Logan said it was just...going to take some time to believe it. 

And things did get better. Slowly. He might not have even realized progress was being made if it weren’t for the less than subtle praise the three of them kept offering, the pride and hope that was impossible to miss. 

As embarrassing as it was, being practically applauded for something as small as forcing himself not to fall into a desperate string of apologies for bumping into someone’s shoulder, he couldn’t deny that it helped to some extent. 

He did wish he was doing a little better, though. Sometimes he had to force himself not to flee if someone was in a bad mood, silently remind himself that no one was going to hurt him, that he didn’t need to be afraid, didn’t need to protect himself and hide. 

It didn’t always work. 

And there were always going to be slip ups. Little mistakes and thoughtless behavior that Virgil would never hold against the others. They were trying so hard and like Patton had said, mistakes were part of being human. 

There had been a...particularly bad day during a rather stressful filming week. Their schedule was finally allowing them all a bit of a break, and Virgil had taken up residence in the living room for the afternoon, lost in his own head in a futile attempt to relax. 

He hadn’t even realized he’d left some things strewn around. Just a few pillows and blankets- it wasn’t a big deal, he’d clean it up before he headed back up to his room like he usually did. At the time, he was too tired to really give it much thought. 

And then Roman had stalked through the living room, nose buried in his notes, mumbling something under his breath. He was clearly swarmed with the work Thomas needed from him, lost in thought and stress, and on his way to the kitchen he’d stumbled over one of the pillows. 

Virgil smirked and sat up with the intent of calling the Prince a clutz, hopeful that their familiar banter could reduce some of the tension from the workload, but Roman beat him to it. 

“Jesus, Virgil will you clean up your mess?” He snapped, kicking the pillow aside. “I don’t have time to be tripping over your stuff!” 

And then he was gone, disappearing into the kitchen, and Virgil had...froze. 

It was fine. He knew it was ok, he knew…

But all of that had disappeared in a second, all rational thought drowned out by cold, all consuming fear and memories, harsh realizations that Roman was _angry_ \- angry at _him_ , and Virgil had left a mess, and whenever he’d left a mess before he’d been _punished_ \--

That snapped him out of his shock, instinct and panic taking over, and he threw himself from the couch and dropped to the floor, gathering everything into a pile and frantically trying to fold the blankets with trembling hands. 

It was fine, it was fine, it was _fine_. He’d made a stupid mistake but he could fix it. It would hurt less if he just cleaned it up. 

God why wouldn’t his hands stop _shaking?_ His chest was aching, his grip weak and unsteady. It took far too long to get the blankets folded, and when it was finally done the end result was uneven and lumpy, nothing that would get him out of any trouble. 

He didn’t even know when he’d started crying, fear and hopelessness setting in all at once, but suddenly he was sobbing, breaths quick and ragged as he desperately tried to smooth out the blankets, refusing to focus on getting a hold of his breathing until it was _fixed_ , until the room was clean and Roman didn’t have to be angry anymore—

“Kiddo?” 

Oh no. No no _no_ , he wasn’t ready for anyone else to see what he’d done yet. It was still a mess, he’d still left everything a mess and _he_ was a mess, and he was just going to make them more upset with him and then it would be _worse_. 

“Virgil.” There was someone kneeling beside him, and it took him a moment to realize it was Patton. “What’s wrong?” 

Virgil shook his head, knowing Patton was looking over the mess Virgil had created, growing just as angry as Roman. 

“I-I’m cleaning,” he managed, wincing when his voice came out a pathetic, weak stammer. “I d-didn’t mean to- mean to leave it a m-mess, I was- I was gonna clean it up, I didn’t mean to upset him, I didn’t--” 

“Hey, it’s ok.” Patton’s hands were suddenly over his own, squeezing gently to stop Virgil from frantically trying to fix the wrinkles, the folded blankets still not even remotely acceptable. “Breathe, honey. Can you look at me?” 

Virgil obeyed almost immediately, not willing to risk making anybody anymore angry than they already were, trying to stop his ragged sobs to no avail. 

“There you go, kiddo. Can you take some deep breaths for me?” 

Virgil shook his head. “I- I can’t, I have to fix it, I- I’m trying to clean it up, I promise.” 

“It’s ok,” Patton said again. “It looks fine, Virge. You know it doesn’t need to be perfect.” 

“Yes it _does_ ,” Virgil argued, because he knew it did. He was already in trouble, making it perfect and spotless was the only way to lessen the inevitable punishment. “I already made him mad and he’s gonna- he’s gonna...I have to fix it, I have to--” 

“Nobody’s going to do anything to you, Virgil.” Patton frowned, moving Virgil’s shaking hands from the pile of blankets. “Who do you think is mad at you?” 

And for a second, Virgil wasn’t even sure. Just for a second, he almost said another name, too many memories overlapping. 

But then it cleared slightly, and he was only blinded by the current panic of what he’d done, still unable to fully grasp what was being said to him. 

“R-Roman, he...I didn’t realize that he wanted it clean I-I didn’t know and I ruined it and he’s upset and he’ll--”

“Slow down, kiddo,” Patton said, for some reason looking even more distressed when Virgil snapped his mouth shut, watching the moral side with wide, wary eyes. “Roman’s a bit distracted today, I’m sure he isn’t upset. He probably doesn’t even realize.”

Virgil hadn’t even noticed until Patton frowned down at their hands, but he’d been desperately fighting against the other side’s hold, frantically trying to go back to smoothing out the blankets without even realizing. 

“Here,” Patton said, gently easing him back. “How about I go get Roman, and then we can--”

“No!” Virgil had ripped his arms out of Patton’s grip, scrambling backwards without any clear thought of what he was doing. “N-no, no Patton, please let me finish, let me just try, I can do it I swear, he doesn’t have to be upset, I can be better, I can fix it please--” 

“Honey,” Patton tried, and Virgil knew he was scaring him but he couldn’t seem to stop. “You’re ok. I promise. Remember what we said? You’re safe with us.” 

Virgil curled in on himself, hunched over on the living room floor, mind scrambling desperately to latch on to what Patton was saying, trying and continuously failing to make sense of the warped reality his panic had created. 

“Please don’t get him yet,” he found himself begging. “ _Please_ , not while he’s angry, please, he’ll hurt me, I don’t want him to hurt me again.” 

And that was when Virgil had known, both he and Patton, that he wasn’t talking about Roman anymore. 

But he didn’t stop his pleading, and Patton didn’t even hesitate, carefully lowering himself beside Virgil who forced himself not to flinch away. 

The thought of fleeing to hide briefly crossed his mind. Patton would eventually call Roman in, and Roman would see the mess Virgil still hadn’t cleaned up, and he’d still be angry. 

Virgil had tried hiding before. It didn’t always work, and it often led to worse punishment once he was caught, but on the off chance that he got away, the anger had usually faded by the time he resurfaced. 

Usually. It often wasn’t worth the effort. 

“You’re ok,” Patton said again, pulling him from his thoughts. “I’m right here. I won’t let anyone hurt you, Virgil. Ever again. Can you breathe with me, please?” 

Virgil nodded, something screaming at him to obey, _just do what they wanted and it would be ok…_

It took an embarrassingly long time for Patton to talk Virgil down, for Virgil to even remember where he was, what exactly he was so afraid of. 

But it all came back, slowly, the real world filtering in around the panic, the soothing voices, the gentle reminders that he wasn’t in any danger. 

Oh. Great, he’d done it again. 

It took Virgil a second to come back fully, blinking as he registered Patton sitting beside him, watching with wide, teary eyes. 

Oh, god. 

“I’m sorry,” he managed, now for an entirely new reason. “I’m ok Patton, I just thought... _fuck_ , I’m so _sorry_ , I didn’t mean to freak out like that.” 

“Language, kiddo,” Patton said softly. “You don’t need to be upset with yourself, and you have nothing to apologize for.” 

Virgil’s breathing was still too shallow, his chest aching with each gasp, and before he knew it he was reaching for Patton, letting himself melt into the other side’s embrace. 

He managed to keep himself from crying again, just barely, closing his eyes against Patton’s ever soothing words of comfort and safety. 

They’d been down this road too many times by now, some days worse than others, and Virgil had no idea how long his family was going to put up with this. Their patience seemed endless, but everyone had their limit. 

“I’m trying,” he said after a moment, desperately needing Patton to understand. “I’m trying, Pat. I‘m trying so hard to be better, I swear I’m trying, I don’t _want_ to keep doing this but I just--”

“You’re making more progress than you think, kiddo,” Patton said, cutting off his frantic rambling. “And we’ve already told you, there’s no rush. It’s gonna take time, and that’s ok. We aren’t going anywhere.”

They’d all told him that at some point. Told him he was getting there, that it wasn’t his fault when he slipped up, that they wouldn’t give up on him. 

They’d all promised, all in their own way. Virgil only wondered if they’d realized just what it was they were signing up for. 

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Patton was carefully pulling away, smiling almost apologetically. 

“I’m going to get Roman now.” He frowned at the way Virgil’s shoulders tensed, eyes cast downward. “I’ll tell him what happened. But we can’t just leave these things unaddressed, you know that.” 

He did know. Logan had said it enough times, along with countless other tactics and behaviors to help Virgil that never seemed to work. 

Nothing ever worked. He couldn’t even _recover_ properly. 

But when he nodded miserably Patton just gave another small smile, squeezing his hand before standing from the couch and hurrying into the kitchen. 

It couldn’t have been more than five minutes, Virgil left to hunch over himself beneath his pulled up hood and press into the corner of the couch, when there was the sound of footsteps rushing towards the living room. 

He managed not to flinch, just glanced up and watched as Roman practically came barreling into the room, eyes wide and face flushed. 

Princey looked like he wanted to rush across the room to Virgil’s side without a second more of hesitation, but a glance back at Patton in the doorway stopped him in his tracks. 

“Virgil, I-I’m so sorry.” He was breathless, and Virgil’s throat felt tight at the waver in his voice. “I should have known...I wasn’t even _thinking_ \--” 

“It’s ok,” Virgil said, willing his hands to stop shaking, pushing down the cruel, nagging voice shouting warnings in the back of his mind. “Really, Roman. It was a stupid overreaction. It’s on me.” 

Roman took a careful step forward, only moving the rest of the way to the couch when Virgil didn’t immediately tense up or move away. 

“I am sworn to protect you,” he said, voice oddly small as he lowered himself beside Virgil. “I was stressed and distracted- but that's no excuse. I should never have allowed myself to do or say anything that could make you feel unsafe.” 

Virgil let out a trembling sigh, the obvious guilt in Princey’s eyes like a punch to the gut, so painfully undeserved, and all his fault. 

He took Roman’s hand, noting how the creative side almost instantly relaxed at the physical contact. “You were stressed, and you just asked me to pick up my things off the floor. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that.” 

“And I shouldn’t have been so aggressive,” Roman said. “You have no reason to be ashamed of your reaction, especially with the stress you’re under. I promise it won’t happen again, Virge.” 

The reassurances, as always, settled something in Virgil’s chest, breaths coming a bit easier, a weight gradually lifting from his shoulders. But it still just felt...wrongly placed. 

“It’s ok if it does,” he said, finding himself leaning against Roman’s side. “We’re...learning, right? All of us? It’s- it’ ok if we have slip ups. It happens.” 

Logan had said something similar to all of them countless times before, his words of course were much more steady and eloquent, but Virgil knew Roman would recognize the words for what they were. 

“You’re right.” Roman still sounded unconvinced, but Virgil couldn’t bring himself to dwell over it too much when he was being pulled close, once again enveloped in strong, safe arms. “And we’re getting there. Together.” 

It wasn’t the first slip up that had sent Virgil back into that awful, panicked state, and it definitely wasn’t the last. 

It was stupidly easy to trigger him back into that mindset, convinced he was too much, that he’d done something horrible, that he would be punished and hurt accordingly. 

He was assured it was ok, that it was “normal” to react like this after going through the things he had, but Virgil was almost sure he was taking an absurdly long time to show any improvement. 

But then again...maybe that wasn’t entirely true. 

Improvement could be so slow, so small, that maybe the bad just sometimes happened to overshadow the good. 

The first time Virgil really noticed it, he’d been finishing up putting away some clean dishes, Logan setting the table for dinner while Patton and Roman idly chatted over their cooking. 

“Virgil?” Logan called. “Those glasses actually go in the other cabinet to your right. Do you mind moving them?” 

Right, he’d known that. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” 

It was only a few cups, and he wordlessly moved them to the next shelf over before closing the cabinet and making his way over to the couch until dinner was ready. 

Or at least...that was what he _planned_ on doing before realizing that everyone in the kitchen was staring at him. 

They were trying to be sneaky about it, but Virgil could very clearly see everyone was watching him with wide, poorly hidden smiles, looking ridiculously giddy like he’d just announced he’d won the lottery. 

What the hell? 

“Uh, guys?” he asked. “Everything ok?” 

Logan was the first to speak, and Virgil wondered if he was imagining the pride radiating from the logical side. 

“Everything is satisfactory, Virgil,” he said, reaching forward and squeezing the other’s shoulder. “Thank you for doing the dishes.” 

Before Virgil could even consider calling him back as he walked away, Patton let out a noise that could only be described as a squeal, practically flinging himself forward to envelope the anxious side in a tight hug. 

“I am just so gosh darn _proud_ of you, kiddo!”

“I- what?” 

Even Roman was looking like he was forcibly holding himself back from joining in, and the Prince was actually _bouncing_ on the balls of his feet, smiling so wide Virgil felt something in his stomach swoop. 

“Give him some space, Patton,” Logan spoke up, having stopped to watch from the doorway. “You responded extremely well to my request, Virgil, but apologies if we overwhelmed you.” 

As Patton pulled away, Virgil once again opened his mouth to ask what on earth everyone was so happy about, before it suddenly dawned on him. 

He’d put the dishes in the wrong cabinet, a mistake that had been pointed out by another side. 

It was exactly the sort of thing that would send him into a panic, make him lose himself in a fit of frantic apologies, paranoia, and anxiety rising up to choke him, to send him under a wave of regression. 

But...that hadn’t happened this time. 

It hadn’t even occurred to him to apologize. No panic, no fear, no flood of memories and guilt. Just a simple mistake that he’d quickly corrected and then promptly forgotten about. 

And he _still_ didn’t feel the need to apologize or get out of the enclosed space. 

Huh. 

“See? I told you,” Roman said, leaned up against the kitchen counter. “We’re getting there, Stormcloud.” 

And...yeah. Virgil supposed he was right. It was slow, sometimes almost invisible, but that really didn’t matter. They were getting there. 

**Author's Note:**

> I plan on writing Remus and Jan's reactions soon, but I also want to make a bunch of these so feel free to drop any suggestions you have for Virge's recovery. If you do I owe you my entire life <3


End file.
